


Twenty Eighteen

by leejeno



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 09:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leejeno/pseuds/leejeno
Summary: Jaemin gets a chance to go back and get everything right with Renjun.





	Twenty Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> hello omg im finally writing an actual fic :0 the only warning i can think of is cursing and future angst so uwu 
> 
> i hope you will all enjoy this story & i will try to update regularly but no promises bc i have other stuff i must finish...
> 
> also i tried to proof read this but it will probably still have mistakes bc its currently 2 am...
> 
> anyway thank u for reading this hehe <3

**AUGUST 2021**

 

Jaemin likes to amuse himself with the idea that his life leading up to his twenty-first birthday had been highlights to add to his growing list of memories. The future would only bring brighter and happier years for him to remember and hold fondly. And honestly, it really did seem that way.

 

_ A loud knock. _ “Jaemin, open the fucking door!”

 

He not only  _ likes  _ to believe but does truly, actually believe that he graduated as the most popular boy in high school. His grades, although not the best, landed him in the top percentile of the graduating class of 2018. Lastly—and undeniably his most remarkable talent—was his rise as a varsity baseball player. He was the only freshman to make it to the varsity team and stay on the varsity team for all four years. Back then, he was considered a prodigy. But there is something wrong with all of these memories: they were all made in highschool. Last time Jaemin checked, high school is over and he’s been in college for about three years now.

 

_ Another loud knock, followed by several harsh bangs and kicks against the bedroom door. _ ”It’s your birthday today, and we’re celebrating it even if I have to force you to do it!”

 

Everything from high school had long faded away. His once extraordinary baseball skills are seen as common amongst the college competition, his grades are average at best, and at the moment, he could probably count the amount of friends he has on one hand. To put it promptly, his life sucks.

 

“Jaemin, I am literally going to break down this door.”

 

Jaemin sighs, finally caving in, mostly because he’s afraid that Donghyuck is actually going to break down the door and get them in trouble with the landlord of their apartment.

 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Calm down,” he says exasperatedly as his roommate continues to obliterate the door. 

 

The harsh bangs stop and only then does Jaemin crack the door open, and he’s taken aback when he is met with not only Donghyuck, but other figures, who simultaneously yell out “Surprise!”

 

After staying in the bedroom all day with the lights turned off, he’s slightly blinded by the sudden blast of lights, and he has to adjust his vision as he attempts to decipher the identities of his other friends cramped in their tiny living room.

 

Mark, Yukhei, Jungwoo—

 

He feels his mouth go dry as his gaze drifts directly towards possibly the biggest high school regret Jaemin has: Huang Renjun.

 

They had dated in the third and fourth years of high school, but their relationship ended in a nasty breakup, one that Jaemin, though he hates to admit, had entirely been the cause of. Their relationship during the later half had been filled to the brim with fights and neglect, always ending with Renjun crying and Jaemin finding solace by remaining ignorant.

 

Years have passed since then and Jaemin remains hung up on it—although, back in high school, he claims he never cared much about the relationship to begin with—and Renjun has long moved on, making it  _ very clear _ to Jaemin, showing up to parties with different guys and making out with Lee Jeno at last weekend’s beach bonfire. They put everything behind them in college and have become friends, but in the back of his head, whenever Renjun stays up with him, reviewing notes, head slightly resting on Jaemin’s shoulder or when he leans in closely, hands cupping over his cheek, whispering a side comment into his ear, Jaemin always wishes they can be something more—something they had once been but were no longer. 

 

Renjun holds a small cake in his hands, and as him and the others sing “Happy Birthday,” he approaches Jaemin. The latter feels his heartbeat accelerate for each step the smaller boy takes towards him. Once he’s finally in front of him, Jaemin has to take a breath as he gazes into the brilliant lights reflecting off of Renjun’s eyes into his own. 

 

“Happy birthday,” Renjun mouths. And as if he wants to put him into even more shock, Renjun leans in closer, whispering “Make a wish.”

 

He draws his face back, allowing Jaemin to admire it in its entirety once again. Renjun’s eyelashes flutter onto his skin whenever he blinks, and the corners of his lips curve upwards prettily as he holds out the cake closer to Jaemin. The younger boy unwillingly drifts his gaze away from Renjun, focusing on the candle on the cake in front of him. Closing his eyes, he blows out the candle.

 

_ “I wish I had another chance with you.” _

 

—

 

A familiar, but unsettling, ringtone is what jolts Jaemin out of his  _ very deep _ slumber. Using one arm to prop himself off from the mattress, he uses his other to rub his tired eyes, instinctively reaching for a night stand that isn’t there. When he finally realizes he is grabbing at air, vision clearing to see the full splay of what was once his old room when he was a teenager, his arms go limp, sending his body crashing straight back onto the mattress. 

 

For the longest time, he simply stares at the white ceiling, still incredulous to what he just witnessed. Sure, he may have wished to return to his teenage years the night before, but he was kidding—okay,  _ no _ , he wasn’t, but he also wasn’t expecting his wish to come true. After a few moments of entertaining the idea, he denounces the entire situation, reducing it as symptom of his miserable mind, telling himself that once he gets up, he will be in the apartment bedroom, the one that did not have baseball posters grazing the walls, dirty clothes spilling out of the hamper, and a small, framed picture of him and Renjun resting on his dresser.

 

_ Wait. What? _

 

Jaemin immediately picks himself up, and sure enough, he is still in his old room, baseball posters, dirty clothes, and small, framed picture of him and Renjun still intact. He scrambles towards his dresser, nearly tripping on a pile of clothes on the floor and  _ god _ , how did his teenage self live like this? He clutches the photo frame in his hands tightly, inhaling sharply, eyes drawn to the brunette beside his younger self. 

 

He recognizes this moment vividly. It had been their five month anniversary, and it was spent at the park near the river with their friends. Renjun and Jaemin had planned to spend it together—just the two of them—but one regretful tweet later, and everyone had come along to witness their anniversary. Donghyuck had taken the picture in front of the scenic view of the river. It had been windy that day so in the photo, strands of Renjun’s hair float slightly above his head, and no matter how long Jaemin stares, it still mirrors a halo around his pretty head.

 

The familiar buzz bellows through the air once again, and Jaemin nearly drops the frame, giving himself a mini heart attack. He places the frame back onto the dresser, carefully, slowly, as if the memory would disappear permanently if he dropped it. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he begins to scan his “bedroom” and cringes at the clutter scattered around. The phone continues to blare out loudly, and for some reason, he can’t understand why, but it sounds  _ angry _ , and he feels his stomach churn on instinct. Following his gut, he searches for the still ringing phone—it’s been about two minutes by now—and he finally finds it under a pile of papers, which he assumes is homework, thrown carelessly at the edge of his bed.

 

He is slightly taken aback when he sees the glowing image of Renjun on the screen and in big, bold letters, the contact name displaying “Baby” with a red heart emoji added at the end. He stares in awe for a few seconds because he  _ remembers _ this picture, but he hasn’t seen it in ages and  _ god _ , Renjun looks like the very epitome of beauty in the picture. He manages to snap himself out of his short lived trance, finally picking up, sheepishly answering, “Hello?”

 

For a second, he doesn’t recognize his voice until he realizes that at this point in his life—which he still isn’t completely sure of—his voice did not fully mature yet. It’s silent on both ends for a few seconds, and Jaemin is holding his breath in anticipation, waiting for the melodic tune of Renjun’s voice to come through the phone.

 

A few moments later, and it finally comes through in static-y intervals, but not with the fluttery, whimsical tone that Jaemin had envisioned.

 

“What the hell, Jaem. That’s all you have to say to me, ‘hello’? God, you’re such an asshole.”

 

Jaemin nearly chokes on air, ten minutes back in the past and he already manages to mess up. He tries to recollect all the fights, disagreements,  _ anything _ to possibly save face right now but there had been far too many, and Renjun continues with his rampage.

 

“You said you would make it up to me tonight,”—a chuckle, though a bitter one—”I’m dumb for believing you.”

 

And suddenly, all the wisdom of growing up and college leave without a trace, and Jaemin is his seventeen year old self again, lips trembling as he pleads to his upset boyfriend.

 

“Baby, baby, no I’m sorry.” He can hear the desperateness in his voice, and he really hopes Renjun does too. “I do want to make it up to you.”

 

_ A sniffle. _ “You always say that.”

 

“And I mean it this time, Jun!” He’s calling him Jun again?

 

_ A sob. _ “You always say that too.”

 

Jaemin runs a shaky hand through his hair because the sound of Renjun crying makes  _ him  _ want to cry. He goes in full panic mode, eyes wandering aimlessly around his room, glossing over the 2018 calendar on his desk. He walks towards it rapidly, squinting at the letters that read “February”. Without thinking, he questions through the phone, “February. It’s February, right?”

 

“Um, yes—why are you changing the subject?”

 

“I’m not—what day is it? The seventeenth?”

 

Renjun snorts. “Are you trying to be funny? No, it’s the twenty-eighth, and I’m still mad at you.”

 

Jaemin hums in response, hurriedly slipping a pair of shoes on before grabbing a coat and heading out of the house. Before leaving, he stops in front of a mirror, touching what was definitely his face, though a younger version. Dark rings no longer surround his eyes, and his skin almost glows compared to the dull skin he has as a twenty-one year old. He can only imagine what Renjun will look like in person.

 

“Are you even listening to me, Jaem?” Renjun huffs over the phone, and Jaemin can imagine the pout on his face.

 

“Yes, baby, I’m always listening to you.” Seventeen year old Jaemin speech has taken full control, and he doesn’t seem to notice as he slips out of the front door, running at full speed. To be honest, he doesn’t remember where Renjun lives—it’s been years—but he trusts his feet to take him there.

 

For a few minutes, he listens to Renjun ramble on about how mad he is at him, and knowing nothing of the actual predicament he is in, Jaemin attempts to piece together the argument they are in. This is what he has so far:

 

  1. Renjun is mad.
  2. It’s Jaemin’s fault.
  3. They are in a fight.



 

So, in conclusion, he learns nothing, and as he turns the corner, approaching a familiar house, his feet slow down. He stops once he’s on the front porch.

 

“Jun, can you do me a favor,” he asks softly. “Can you please open the front door for me?”

 

It’s silent for a few moments, and when Renjun doesn’t respond, Jaemin scratches the back of his head, unsure of what to do. “Jun, you still there?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Can you please open the door? I promise it’ll be worth it.”

 

A few more seconds of silence pass, and Jaemin feels his heart begin to deflate as he turns his heel, ready to walk home.

 

“Okay,” Renjun squeaks out, and within a few seconds, the front door is unlocking, revealing the small figure peeking from behind it. Jaemin almost drops the phone in his hand, breath hitching slightly as he takes in the sight before him. He’s immediately drawn to Renjun’s face, which is framed by tangled, dark brown locks. His eyes are red and puffy, most likely from crying, and it breaks Jaemin’s heart a bit. Without thinking, he stuffs his phone in his pocket, cupping Renjun’s soft cheeks and pressing kisses at the corners of his lips.

 

“Jaem, what the hell!”

 

Renjun pushes him off, but as Jaemin is about to apologize, the brunette shushes him, grabbing his hand and leading him off the porch. Despite his prevalent anger, Renjun doesn’t let go of his hand, only squeezing it tighter as he kicks at the semi-melted snow on his front lawn. Jaemin admires his side profile, tempted to tuck the few loose strands of hair behind his ear.

 

“Are you going to apologize or are you just going to stare at me the whole day,” Renjun huffs, gaze still directed at the snow.

 

Jaemin clears his throat awkwardly, positioning himself so he’s in front of Renjun and grabbing his other hand. In his clearest, most serious voice he can muster, he says, “Jun, I am so sorry.”

 

Renjun finally looks up, and Jaemin can see the pure ferocity behind his usually soft, brown eyes. The brunette immediately lets go of his hands, picking up a small handful of snow and without warning, chucking it directly at Jaemin’s face.

 

“What the hell, Jun?”

 

“You. Are. So. Full. Of. Shit,” he says between snowballs. Jaemin attempts to back away, shielding himself with his arms, but Renjun is relentless. Eventually, the younger—or is it older?—boy approaches him, still getting pelted by snowballs, and swoops him into his arms.

 

“Let go! Let go of me, you jerk!”

 

“You need to calm down, Jun!”

 

Jaemin tightens his grip around Renjun’s waist, making the older boy struggle even harder.

 

“I won’t let go until you calm down!”

 

“Fine!” Renjun halts his movement, drooping into his boyfriend’s figure, and cautiously, Jaemin releases his hold. Almost immediately, though, Renjun reaches down for the snow again, but this time, Jaemin quickly takes hold of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling both of them down onto the snow.

 

“No! Now my butt’s all wet,” the smaller boy whines, and Jaemin sighs, pulling him snuggly onto his lap.

 

“There. Better?”

 

“Yes,” Renjun squeaks out. Jaemin doesn’t notice, but a shade of red dusts the other boy’s cheeks slightly as he unknowingly rests his hands over Jaemin’s.

 

They sit like that for a minute, and Jaemin waits until Renjun’s breathing begins to slow down before he starts talking.

 

“Can you please tell me why you’re upset with me?”

 

“I’ve told you so many times,”— _ a sniffle _ —”but you never listen.”

 

“This will be the last time, I promise.”

 

Renjun spins his body around so he’s facing Jaemin, resting his hands on his shoulders. He glares at the boy for a few seconds before sighing.

 

“How come I always call you first?”

 

“What?”

 

“I always call you first. At school, I go to your locker, I watch your baseball games, and I try to make plans with you—plans that you always ditch .”

 

Jaemin can hear the shakiness in his voice, so he begins rubbing soothing circles into his boyfriend’s back.

 

“And on Valentine’s day, I got you a watch and a two page letter. You got me a card that you bought during your free period.” He pauses. “You always forget about our plans and hang out with your friends instead, and you haven’t been to one choir recital, and you never ever try to approach me first during school, and you always hang up first—”

 

Renjun has to pause as he hiccups and runs out of breath. There are tears cascading down his cheeks at this point, and Jaemin uses his thumb to wipe them away. 

 

Seeing Renjun cry finally pulls him back into their old relationship. Even back then, Jaemin had hated the sight of Renjun crying, but he never attempted to stop it or stop  _ causing  _ it for that matter. He knows why he’s in the past. He’s been given a second chance, and he’s not going to fuck up their relationship this time; even if changing the past defied all the odds and instances in the universe, he would do it all to be with Renjun.

 

Gently, he pushes Renjun’s figure closer to himself so that their faces are only inches away. He wipes the remaining tears and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. 

 

“Listen, I’ll call you first, and I’ll go to your locker, and I’ll watch every one of your choir recitals—”

 

“You always say stuff like that Jaem. You always say you’re going to change, and then you go right back to being the way you are.” Renjun refuses to look into Jaemin’s eyes, resting his gaze on Jaemin’s chest, and he wonders if he can  _ see _ how fast his heart is beating at the moment. 

 

“Jun,  _ please _ . I’ll even sit with you in this snow all day until you believe me.”

 

“Do it, you won’t.”

 

“Oh, but I will.”

 

“Okay, but what makes you think I will?”

 

“Then I’ll sit here by myself, waiting for you.”

 

“Stop saying things like that. It makes me not want to be mad at you.”

 

“I think that’s the point.”

 

“I want to be mad at you, though.”

 

“I  _ don’t _ want you to be mad at me, though.”

 

“... You’re such a child.”

 

“And you’re a baby—my baby, to be exact.” 

 

Jaemin smirks, and Renjun stays silent as a pout spills over his lips. “You’re despicable,” he murmurs, lightly resting his cheek against Jaemin’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m dating you.”

 

“Me neither.” Jaemin means it. “I’m so lucky.”

 

They sit there in a peaceful silence for a few moments. Jaemin allows the brunette to play with the tips of his hair, carefully sliding light brown locks between his nimble fingers. Renjun eventually lifts his head off of Jaemin’s shoulder, peering into his eyes as he draws his face back.

 

“Are you really going to change,” Renjun murmurs tentatively. His tone is laced with a bit of sadness that makes Jaemin want to kiss it away.

 

“I promise I will,” he replies, using his thumb to trace a heart on Renjun’s cheek.

 

“You promise?” The older boy gets a playful look on his face that only Jaemin can recognize. “Wanna seal it with a kiss?”

 

Jaemin nods, mouth going dry as his eyes follows Renjun’s tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

 

Renjun seems to notice because he leans in a bit, and Jaemin’s heartbeat rises as he shows no signs of stopping. The younger boy closes his eyes, puckering his lips slightly, but when seconds pass without the feeling of Renjun’s lips on top of his, he opens his eyes to see Renjun’s face hovering closely near his own. The boy sticks his tongue out before mischievously smiling, and Jaemin can’t help but grin because it’s the first smile he’s seen from Renjun since he came back.

 

The smile on Renjun’s face is quickly replaced by a deadpan expression. “I’m not going to forgive you that easily again. You have to prove that you’re going to change.”

 

He promptly untangles himself from Jaemin and stands up, dusting snow off his pants. Just as he heads back towards his house, he turns around again, squatting down so he’s eye level with Jaemin. Renjun kisses his thumb and presses it against Jaemin’s lips. When Jaemin’s eyes widen, body slightly jolting in surprise, he smiles, satisfied with the reaction.

 

“Okay. I’m really going this time.” And Renjun really does, turning on his heel, only turning back to close the front door.

 

Jaemin has to sit there for a few minutes to process everything that happened. He’s scared that he’ll wake up in a few minutes to his miserable, dull, Renjun-less life again, but when one of the top floor windows slam open, and he hears a familiar soft, but firm voice shout, “Get off my lawn, nerd,” he realizes this is real, and he’s here, and he’s going to do everything in his power so that Renjun can be in his past, present, and future, happy and loved all the way through.


End file.
